Louise Summons a Jedi Master
Chapter 4: The System Does Not Work…
In a secluded part in one of the Academy's courtyards, Siesta was hard at work washing clothes in one of the fountains, handling a stack of laundry handed off by both the staff and students. To the untrained servant, it would be a difficult task, for one had to determine the suitable soaps, the conditions of drying, and how to keep track of hundreds of different clothing pieces. One wrong pull or push can tear silk-laced underwear, too much washing could remove the dye, and too little cleaning could leave unwanted stains. With the volume of clothes needing attention, Siesta would not be wrong to find it tiresome.
She was thankful that, at the very least, she wasn't alone.
Beside her left and right were two other maids, one a new hire from last week–Brigitte, she remembered–, the other Anne, one of the triplet cousins/look-alikes. Each had their own bundle of clothes and then some. They had been at this for nearly two hours, at which two moons rose from behind the hills.
It would be another hour before the dark-haired maid would be able to sleep for the night.
"That boy has caused me more headaches than I care to mention," complained Anne, who was in the middle of folding her own work, doing so on a clean slab of raised stone.
"Is he so emotional about it?" asked Brigitte, also tidying two bundles of laundry next to her.
The brown-haired girl smiled to herself. "Rather adorable, actually."
"And a Noble, too!"
"And a Noble."
"But you haven't taken his offer?"
She shook her head. "I'm…. No… No, I haven't, and I don't want to. Chances are that I'll be reduced to a handmaiden of his, even if it does become serious. His family will want him married to some other, high-nobility girl."
The red-haired, freckled girl wore a confused look. "And what's wrong with being on his side? You stay with him, your quality of life will rise dramatically!"
Anne shook her head, "I'm too selfish. I want a man to myself, and I don't need fancy luxuries, just…" Setting down her work, she hugged herself, swaying back and forth in show, "I just need soft caresses and gentle kisses, someone to grow old with, a man whose thoughts are of only me."
Brigitte tsked in response. "I don't think you understand the majority of men, Anne, they need variety! I'll be praying for whatever future husband you have, for he'll surely be pent up!"
Siesta had grown red in the face, understanding exactly the subject matter. She had no intention of adding her two cents.
Unfortunately, Brigitte would not oblige her. "What about you, Siesta?"
She kept her attention on the clothes, still maintaining delicate coordination in folding and storing them in the basket. She feigned ignorance, "Oh, hmm… I haven't thought of it."
"You must have been approached."
The black-haired maid didn't say anything, only giving her an awkward look.
"You must have! With a bust and shape like yours, I'd be surprised that you'd break your back before someone swept you off your feet, noble or otherwise."
"Oh, leave her alone." Anne chided. "She's shy enough as is!"
"And what's she to be so shy of? Rejection?"
"It's clearly experience! She lived most of her life in a small town. Hardly been to the capital, nor the port cities for a good festival and dance!"
"I'm right here…" Siesta whispered, more amused than frustrated.
Brigitte took on a dramatically horrified look as she faced the black haired maid, "Our Founder! We've got to get you to the capital one of these days!"
She hadn't bothered to mention that she had been to Tristania on numerous occasions, visiting cousins and several relatives. Perhaps I should correct that? she mused.
Soon, as the last of the laundry had been folded, Siesta strided away from the fountain and back to the communal dormitories, parting ways with Brigitte and Anne with the load in question. It was getting late, far too late to deliver the laundry to their now-retired owners. The servants' living quarters were the best place to store them. Plus, she'd need to sleep, even if tomorrow would be less demanding.
It was in the middle of one courtyard, far from the light of torches and enchantments, that she caught sight of something huddled in the lengthy grass, grunting lightly, dressed in a familiar brown robe. Siesta thought about moving around it, but curiosity and duty to the nobles, compelled her to approach.
Taking tentative yet purposeful steps, she inched closer to the small creature. When her eyes adjusted enough to the soft moonlight, she realized exactly what it was.
She spoke loud enough to catch the Not-Elf's attention, still holding reservations about its elvish look, "Um… mister familiar?"
The small creature hardly acknowledged her, its back still to her as it searched for… something. "Hmmmmm… where."
"Mister familiar… are you looking for something?"
The Not-Elf twisted its head back to meet her gaze for a moment. "Hmmm… Looking for something, I am."
She looked around, realizing that the area was the same one used in the summoning ritual two days prior. "Is it important? I hate to see your master angered by your absence."
He moved several feet in one direction, using its chair leg to shuffle the grass. "Hmmmm… Looking for my Gimer stick. Lost it, I have!"
"A… Ci'mer stick?" Siesta tried parroting, finding the word strange.
"Yes! Given to me by the Wookies, it was."
"… Wouu'kieeys?"
The Not-Elf looked up briefly, as though realizing something. "… No, not from the Wookies. Lost that one, I have."
She felt compelled to ask what exactly a 'Ci'mer stick' or who the 'Woukieys' were but held herself. Such strange terms made it sound as though it had dreamt them, but spoke as though they actually existed.
It answered her unasked question, as though having read her mind, "Large and sentient, they are. 'People of the Trees,' they are called. Not see them, you would have."
Siesta blinked, then slowly nodded in agreement. "I… yes?"
"Yes!"
She stood awkwardly, dumbfounded by the exchange. "..."
"Help me, would you? Or, stand there and do nothing, would you?"
The black-haired maid had to shake herself, regaining her senses. "Yes… w-what does it look like?" she asked, setting the basket down.
*Clunk*
She felt it hit something solid and wood-like, almost spilling the contents of the basket out onto the grassy field.
The small creature twisted around to her, then eyed the basket.
Setting down the thing further to her left, she knelt down, hands splayed as she reached out into the grass. It wasn't long before she grabbed something solid and textured, that of some sort of strange wood.
Lifting up the short piece, she brought it closer for inspection. "A… walking stick?"
"Gimer stick!" he corrected excitedly, hobbling towards her.
Somewhat frightened, she took several steps back, caught off by the Not-Elf's approach.
"Give! Mine!" the creature said, his small, clawed hands outstretched.
Siesta had to force herself to stop, taking several calming breaths, still clutching to the stick.
It took notice, halting its advance and giving her a curious glance.
Both stood silently, the maid more so awkwardly as she stared.
"Troubled, you are," it stated.
"N-no… it's not that," she denied.
"Afraid, you are?"
"... No."
It gave a queer look, then gestured to her to kneel. "Down, yes, down to me."
"... Wha–"
"Down!"
She did so apprehensively, kneeling on one leg.
The Not-Elf outstretched one of its hands, expecting the stick. The black-haired maid placed the thing in its open palm just as it dropped the chair leg.
"Hmmm…" Bringing the stick close, he started chewing on it, much to her dismay.
What is happening? Siesta internally bemoaned.
Finishing its chewing, having hardly dented the stick by her reckoning, the creature suddenly jerked its right hand forward, its palm fully splayed as it rested on her forehead.
She lurched back instinctively as something sharp pinched the back of her mind. "Mister Familiar!?" she cried, placing a hand on the back of her head.
Just as quickly, the anxiety she felt, and the stresses of today seem to vanish, replaced by serenity. Even her fear dissipated. It had been like a calm wave that washed through her mind, purifying the stains and guck that had built up over the day.
"Calm, you are?" it asked.
"I… Y-yes."
"Good! Find sleep now, you must."
"But… what was it… what did you–"
"Call it 'magic,' hmm?"
She stared at the creature, giving a small, apprehensive nod. Without another word, the maid retrieved her basket, hurrying toward the servant chambers and then to her room. Any thought of corralling the creature back to its master had been forgotten.
Before passing one of the stone pillars of a high wall, she looked back, still finding the diminutive creature standing in the same spot.
Yoda stood by, watching her retreat, dwelling on the unexpected discovery. He thought he had sensed something of her, his probe having revealed much. For someone to react the way she had betrayed a sensitivity worthy of consideration, especially for the old Jedi order.
"Curious indeed," he muttered to himself, just as Siesta entered one of the towers.
With his Gimer stick, he hobbled away, intent on finding a place to rest. A fireplace would be ideal, but such a luxury may not be granted to him. The air felt cool to the touch, but not so much that it would be unbearable with his robes. The grass would be unsanitary but would provide more cushioning than stone or wood floors. The tridactyl would make due, just as he had for so many years.
It was another, odd dream of stars, heavenly clouds, and strange corridors which again took Louise throughout the night. With early morning skies piercing through loosely drawn curtains, she rested in a fetal position, her mind in a state of numbness. The girl didn't feel like moving, nor did she intend to fall back asleep.
Sleep was initially difficult given the confrontation with her familiar. The girl had been beyond angry that it had so openly disobeyed her, then terrified of the fact that it had resisted her commands, using magic on her. She thought that such resistance could only be of an elvish kind, for how else could a pointy-eared creature be capable of refusing the wishes of its summoner? The implications did not sit well.
It performed magic, Louise reminded herself, shifting so that she was now staring up at the ceiling.
The more she thought of it, one part of her grew excited that it had demonstrated magic. Only few of her classmates could boast that their own familiars held such an ability, such being the Cow with her Fire Salamander, Tabitha and her Wind Dragon, Rickard with his Purple Wyvern, and Felix with his Bug Bear (just to name a few). Those familiars could, respectively, spew fire from its maw, cast piercing gusts of wind, hurl balls of flame, and conjure earth as a defensive mechanism. It is well known that a familiar represents a mage's affinity with an element. If her's wielded something akin to wind magic–for 'Yudah's' telekinesis appeared as such–what did that say of her? Was she too aligned to wind magic, just like her mother?
It performed magic.
Her status as a mage could very well change. She would no longer be mocked–or so she thought–by her peers as 'Zero,' the mage with no magical talent, the girl who brings nothing but destruction, and the young Noble who could 'only be a detriment to society.'
It performed magic!
The excitement sank as quickly as it rose. What good was a magical familiar if it was not bound to its master? If it continued to disobey her, she may as well have not summoned anything.
But to tame it…
Sitting up right, placing herself against the bed's headboard, she peered around her room. Louise had gone to rest by herself last night, and it appeared she had woken up by herself this morning. Nowhere in sight was the Not-Elf. Part of her was thankful she was spared of any more confrontations, though the other felt sad that it wasn't present.
The more stubborn part of Louise had overcome her senses, disregarding the Not-Elf's 'ramblings' from the night before. Afterall, what could it possibly know of the Founder? What could it know of magic that its betters had studied for their entire lives?
It had brain damage… right? she thought.
She recalled her meeting with Mondeville: "Well then, it's either an error of the translation spell, or–more likely–it is how he actually speaks."
… Maybe mad… or possibly senile? The Not-Elf looked to be in its twilight years. Age must have been taking its toll. 'Yudah' had admitted that it couldn't remember anything of its childhood, nor its species.
How tame it… If she was going to rid herself of that title of 'Louise the Zero,' she needed to bring her familiar under control. It wasn't so senile that she couldn't trick it (not easily, at least), and it seemed too stubborn in its ('heretical') beliefs to easily obey on its own.
Perhaps I can starve it?
… Perhaps. She would need to ensure the cooperation of the servants for that. A more direct method would involve the use of her crop. If it came to it, she would have to employ her own 'pitiful' magic.
That is, if it doesn't hurt me, she worried. It was beyond her why it wouldn't simply take its place. To serve a noble is a great honor (in her and most others minds). It appeared to her that the tridactyl was resisting for illogical reasons.
The Valliere forced herself from her bed, showering and dressing herself for a long day of learning. She wasn't about to let herself be tardy. The pinkette would need something more concrete to ensure its loyalty. She had at least a month until the Familiar Exhibition to figure something out.
Yoda awoke to the gentle kissing of sunlight on his eyes, his sight filled the high rising tower he found himself next to, cornered in a secluded area of a courtyard. Staring into a warmly lit sky, a sense of contentment filled him, following a surge of energy reinvigorating him a new day of exploration. It was very… strange. Without the encroaching Darkness nor the looming threat of the Empire, the tridactyl found himself more free and at ease.
Or, among friendly company, perhaps it is, he thought. Dagobah, for all of its… charm, could be lonely at times.
On que, something wet and rough scrubbed at the side of his check, followed by a soft trill.
The grandmaster chuckled, raising his three-digit hand to pet the nose of Sylphid. "To you, a good morning!" He remembered falling asleep within the coil of the dragon's tail, the subtle warmth and cushioning of its body being a significant improvement to itchy grass.
The wind dragon pushed its head against its palm, rubbing hard against his nails and leaving thick globs of drool. Were it not for its smooth scales, Yoda would have certainly created several cuts.
He slowly looked around, spotting a tower in the distance, one where students were gathering for an early morning session. The tridactyl thought briefly of seeking a meal first, though decided that that would come later. His curiosity needed addressing, and he wanted to learn more.
It was now mid-morning, and Louise's familiar still had not shown itself.
Jean's lecture hall was as standard as any other in the academy, aside from the disheveled paperwork and desk at the far right corner, and the odd instrument here and there. Rows upon rows of desks encircled the chamber, with the center being the lowest, rising up to the walls. Windows generously casted sunlight in, basking the grand room in a morning glow and heat.
"Where is your familiar, Louise? Did you lose him already?"
The pinkette grounded her teeth as she had set her books and bag. For Jean Colbert's class, she had been cursed to sit along the same row as the Zerbst and her blue-haired companion–the latter standing idly behind the redhead, her attention casually on Louise. Several times she begged the professor to let her sit elsewhere to no result.
She thought of an excuse, "You know full well most familiars are not allowed in class, Kirche." It was a half truth. It was Academy policy not to allow familiars within lecture halls, though that decision ultimately fell to each professor. For Jean Colbert, any familiar could accompany their masters, so long as they 'didn't cause a scene.'
"That may be true, but we haven't seen the elvish thing with you since breakfast."
"I'm still punishing it. It's in my room," she lied. The girl dare not mention how 'Yudah' had humbled her last night.
"Oh, how cruel of you, Zero!" the redhead dramatically sighed.
"That's a lie," Tabitha chimed neutrally, her eyes remaining affixed to her book. At the crack of dawn, the bluette checked on her Wind Dragon from the window of her room, finding the small tridactyl asleep with the juvenile familiar.
Louise briefly gave the bluette a quick stare before recomposing herself.
"That's no surprise. Lying comes easily to a Valliére," Kirche added. "So… you have lost control of it!"
The pinkette's face took on a subtle shade of red. "I have not! I kicked it out of my room as punishment!" she lied again.
"So you claim that you locked it in your room, then you say that you sent it out into the cold night! Which is it, dear Louise?"
"Both!"
"Both?"
"Yes! Both!"
Just behind Kirche, several more students entered, including a particular boy of blond hair and a rose wand.
Both the redhead and bluette also took notice. "Guiche~" Kirche said to herself in a sultry voice.
The Garmont took notice of her, quickly averting his gaze as he quickly strode to his desk, swiveling his head around as though looking for someone. To them, he seemed more subdued than usual.
It became apparent as to his mood when Montemorency marched in along with another handful of second-years. The blond girl also averted her gaze, moving to the opposite end of the row and to a desk not assigned to her, separating herself from the crowd. Her expression was more haughty, angry even.
"Ooooh, so there is trouble for our shameless flirt!" the redhead added. "So the rumors were true."
Louise had heard similar whispers since yesterday. The playboy had (again) been caught playing the heartstrings of both a first-year and Montmorency. She was not in the least bit surprised, thinking of the affair as more evidence to find the boy contemptuous.
Before Kirche could rope her into another battle of wits, the Valliére slithered to her desk, sitting down and pulling out an unassuming book. She wanted to do anything but converse with her 'mortal rival,' and she certainly did not feel like answering for her missing familiar. Presumptuous, corrupted things, she thought of them.
"Not corrupted. Misguided, they are."
Louise jumped, dropping her book as she twirled around. Her gaze met that of the Not-Elf's, pink eyes meeting green-gold ones.
"Y-you…" she nervously growled.
'Yudah' sat cross legged on a desk behind her, raised higher like a teacher looking down on his pupils. She noticed the strange, curved stick in its hands, an obvious replacement to the chair leg he had taken.
His expression appeared unassuming, but there was a glint of smugness. "Me!"
Fury rose within the young noble. She so desperately wanted to punish it. "Where were you!?" she hushed.
"Exploring, I am. Learning, that I wish to do," it said, his soft eyes meeting hers under ridged eyebrows.
"Where. Were. You!?"
"Wish to know where I have gone, do you?"
She felt her skin begin to boil, forgetting her fears. "Yes!"
"There you are!" Kirche yelled with joy.
The Not-Elf caught sight of the tall redhead as she strode to him. He subtly recoiled back as she came too close against his liking. "Louise and I were just talking about you!"
"Best to keep your distance, hmm?" it asked, leaning further away as the redhead inched closer. Some of the class gave it a mix of curious and cautious glances at the scene, only now noticing Louise's green familiar. How they hadn't noticed before was a mystery.
Kirche reached out to grab it, only to huff in annoyance as stood and stepped over to an adjacent desk away from her. "Why not let mama Kirche hold you for a moment? Are you that cruel?" she accused.
"Would not a giant claim you cruel, if avoid its crushing grip, you do?" it countered.
Louise stood, moving between the tridactyl and the tall redhead. "My familiar does not want to be held, Zerbst!"
Several more students took notice of the scene, curiosity and amusement taking them.
The redhead folded her arms. "Cruel you both are! I would never crush anything. My hugs are only gentle and kind!" she said dramatically, ignoring the pinkette.
The doors behind the center podium abruptly swung open, allowing a man in blue robes and glasses to enter. "Class! To your seats, books open to page four-hundred and thirty-three!" Jean Colbert shouted, his attention on his desk as he walked to it. With his staff, he made a few silent incantations, immediately summoning a piece of chalk and willing it to float, writing several lines, the first word reading 'Physics' in their language.
Both the pinkette and Kirche traded not-so-kind expressions before the redhead started retreating, following Tabitha to a pair of desks, just as Louise slithered back into her seat. All the other students that were still standing frantically rushed to their desks, intent on not earning marks against their grade for poor conduct. The bald-headed professor was just if not forgiving in how he conducted his classes, though severely firm at times.
Quickly, the young noble looked back to her familiar, also giving him a sour look, the Not-Elf tilting its head innocently in response. She had some choice words for it, but those would have to come later.
After the professor retrieved a stack of notes, when walking toward the podium, he looked up to inspect the class for a head count. At the back, he spotted the green creature sitting upon a desk, showing bewilderment before quickly composing himself. There was a thing or two to say about its manners, but for now he would let it slide.
Setting down his notes, he withdrew another chalk, beginning to write. In a loud but calm voice, he said, "It is well known that force is the product of mass and acceleration. Combine this with Erda's gravitational pull, we may measure mass. HOWEVER, when we account for weight–"
The lesson progressed, with each of the students writing their own notes, either by hand or by magical means. Yoda observed in fascination, at times focusing on the vibrations in the Force but mostly on the man's lecture. Half of what he referred to was basic physics, lessons taught early on to Younglings. The other half was far more fascinating: an application of 'magic' and its effects on the material plane. A casual demonstration of 'conjuration' involved a complex series of 'earth' spells (by great effort on Jean's part) which had both distressed and fascinated the grandmaster, for the Force shuddered unnaturally.
His mental notes were growing exponentially, giving him plenty of material to contemplate later.
Louise had not witnessed her familiar leave Jean's class. By the time the lecture had concluded, and when their assignments had been given, it appeared nowhere in sight. The girl knew not if her classmates had witnessed it leave. She had not asked anyone, not wanting to give the impression that the tridactyl was free of her control… more so than what they already suspected.
Within a short period between classes, she approached some of the staff, some abroad and most through their stewards, with explicit instructions to not feed nor entertain it, expecting that all would comply with her wishes.
"What exactly is your familiar?" the male steward asked.
Louise paused, still uncertain how to answer. "He is… It is… green and small…"
His expression changed subtly. "I see."
"With pointed ears!" she quickly added.
"Ahhh… Yes… the maids have been… gossiping of it."
"I'd appreciate it if they don't."
"Certainly," he assured with falsehood, understanding the implied order. As a servant to the nobility, the steward was as obligated to fulfill the wishes, to the best of his abilities, of any highborn as though the order came directly from the Queen. From time to time, there were some orders that he felt were too ridiculous.
"Good," Louise curtly said, "and should I find that it has been fed, I will seek to have the servants involved punished."
"Of course."
Still, there was still the matter of confronting it, and the girl is as eager to that as is a child to Tabosian Political Philosophy or boiled brussel sprouts. She doubted that it would so willingly let itself be subjected to corporal punishment. It had the uncanny reaction to her nearly casting a non-lethal spell, as though it had expected it. There was no guarantee that it wouldn't simply take her crop and wand away with its own magic. A strong sense of pride and an inclination to the Rule of Steel, the latter which her mother hammered into her head, would compel her to induce such punishment. She did not want to, not out of guilt but in nervousness.
Just outside of Professor Seppe's lecture room, Louise gripped tightly on the crop, placing it in her bag, then her wand in its holster. She proceeded in with the rest of the students, entering alongside them as the doors unlatched on their own.
She was stopped by Jean's voice. "Miss Valliére, a word if you have a moment!?"
The girl twirled around, meeting the man's eyes.
She said nothing as he approached, scanning her then the grass courtyard. "Ah… where is your familiar?"
The girl bowed low. "Professor, if this is about its conduct, I will have it punished. I profusely apologize for its poor manners."
Jean blinked several times, then realized what she meant. "Right, the desk… Yes, that was rather uncouth of it. Do as you may, the servants already spend enough time scrubbing ink spills and scratches. But, that is not the reason for visiting you."
Louise gave a questioning look as he continued. "I was hoping to borrow the creature."
"I… I don't have it with me," she answered.
He nodded understandingly, "Well… when you do find it, do bring your familiar to my office. There are some… sensitive matters I need to research."
"I see," she said, not seeing what sort of research he'd need to conduct. The girl guessed it had something to do with biology, but realized that that was outside of the professor's expertise… or interest, she thought with uncertainty. "As soon as I find my familiar, I'll bring it to you."
"Good! I've kept you long enough. Get to Seppe's class! On you go!"
The early evening blessed Yoda with incredible orange skies and distant clouds, those which shone yellow and purple. Most of the Academy drifted into rest, some students remaining out in the fields practicing their 'magic,' with walls of earth, streams of water, balls of fire, gusts of wind, and combinations of the four decorating the scene below him. A greater number of servants, he sensed, were still hard at work tidying up the mess hall, kitchens, offices, and other facilities to whatever standard was deemed necessary.
Beyond the noise of civilized people and supernatural conjurations, mother nature hummed in a melody. The gardens and wide plains of grass tuned the silent choir, this song anchored by dirt and stone. Above, the wind trilled, accompanied by the chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects, and the cries of all other animals which added to the highest notes. Within it all was a unifying Force.
The Force…
The life…
The earth…
Death…
Stillness…
And peace…
The small master sat cross legged, perched on a window sill of one of the structure's inner walls, that of the second story. He remained in meditation, his thoughts muted, letting the Force swell within. Seasoned Jedi had many different variants of meditation, some silent, some transcendental, some wandering, but all with the purpose of communing and finding that peace. His was one honed over nine centuries, unique to him, and heavily influenced by N'Kata Del Gormo.
A long time ago, that was… An old friend… A mentor…
From far off to his right, down the long corridor, a familiar presence approached, one with that troubled and saddened mind of a childhood no guardian would want for their charge. She did not notice him (for he was hidden just behind the arched side jamb), nor did he react to her as Yoda maintained his composure.
Tabitha gripped loosely to her book as she paced herself along the long corridor. The day's studies, lectures, and other duties had been addressed to the point where she had an hour to herself. Sylphid had been especially time consuming given the Academy's dwindling space of stables. A certain document that had been filed yesterday with a missing signature, which the animal specialist deemed inadequate. Her friend, Kirche, also proved to be draining this, especially after having been dumped by her two 'suitors.'
Finding a stone bench beside an arched, glassless window, she sat herself before it, setting her bag between her legs. Delicately, her fingers traced the book's pages, finding and pinching a particular parchment and unfolding the piece. She had been engrossed in a fictional tale (for which its author claims inspiration from 'historical events') of a knight and princess. It was a rather gauche if not endearing story. Had she been her younger self, she would have absolutely loved the romanticized drawings and the artful writing.
Minutes passed in silence with no one else passing by.
Suddenly, her senses alerted her to something behind it. It was the subtle shifting of air which had caught her, the sound breathing which anyone else could have easily missed. She pivoted her head over her right shoulder…
Nothing…
She twisted to her left…
Oh…
Louise's familiar sat on the window's ledge, its feet dangling as it tried peering at the book's text. Its robes looked more disheveled, soiled of grass and dirt stains. Tabitha took notice of a short walking stick beside it, an obvious replacement to the chair leg it had before.
Both traded silent looks, neither saying a word. His eyes kept darting back to the book as though telling her to "keep reading!"
Sensing no ill intent, the bluette went back to her book, shifting herself so that the tridactyl had an easier time to view the book's contents. Both engrossed themselves in the fictional tale. Yoda could only understand the illustrations of every other page (for the writings eluded him), every now and then humming to himself at the Knight's heroics and the princess's cunning. Unlike the girl, much of the plot was lost to him, though he could imagine the gaps.
Page after page they read. Very few students and servants passed by to disturb their peace.
Page after page, the sun sheltered behind the hills, and two moons crept just above the distant horizon.
Just before the last of the light faded, Tabitha bookmarked the end of their current chapter, stuffing the novel away in her bag and then rising. "Good night," she said.
The grandmaster hummed in response just as she walked by. As before the hour, he was alone.
His stomach grumbled, and he murmured, "Hmmmmmm… food." He had in mind to feed himself, having remembered that he skipped breakfast this morning. Though, given what he sensed earlier, finding dinner may be more… complicated.
Yoda shifted his attention toward the hills beyond the Academy's walls, seeing a collection of trees and shrubs. His mind traced back to old delicacies–those of which are savory to him but repulsive to us. The greater wilderness would offer plenty of ingredients for a dish he had in mind, and with the tools he 'borrowed,' he would be able to make it himself. He doubted the head chef would entertain him to make something so 'repulsive.'
Grabbing his Gimer stick and pushing himself from the window's ledge, he fell to the floor with elegance, showing an agility which seemed odd for a creature of his size and age.
A screeching voice sounded just down the corridor, "Familiar!"
Ahhh, the pouty Master, he mentally noted, just as he turned and faced an infuriated pinkette.
Louise stood at the far end of the hall, eyeing her summon in a mix of weariness and frustration. She had been returning from the dining hall to her room, intending to rest for the night. The girl had given up finding 'Yudah' when several hours of searching and pestering peers, teachers, and servants gave her nothing, wholly convinced that it had ran away… or at the very least hid itself. Now, it stood 30 paces from her, holding that same unassuming look it always wears. She should be furious that it evaded her (on top of all other misgivings), but that was not the case.
Her hand instinctively went to retrieve the crop, though she hesitated.
Slowly, the girl approached, the tridactyl saying nothing as Louise marched up to him. Notable was that she withdrew a whip-like stick from her belt, her left inching closer to the wand in its holster around her waist. Also noticeable was how she had a slight tremble, and sensing her mind he saw that it was from extreme nervousness.
"A night stroll, are you taking?" he asked.
Louise stood straight in an attempt to project authority. Part of her wished she had simply walked by and back to her room, uncertain as to whether her familiar would retaliate by her being in its presence. The fear she felt last night lingered like a serial killer to a crime scene.
"Where… w-where were you?" she managed in a level voice.
Yoda tilted his head, giving the girl a curious gaze. "Afraid, you are," he simply stated.
"No! No… I am not." She calmed herself before continuing, "Where were you?"
"Where else? Only in these halls, in great halls, and in fields, have I been. Told you this, I already have."
The girl said nothing, its casual admittance throwing her off.
"Food, you have?" the grandmaster prodded.
She thought for a second. "That remains to be seen."
"Ah…"
An awkward silence settled between them, the sound of wind occupying the background, whistling past stone arches and crevices.
Louise finally answered, trying to project authority. "You… you were not to wander these grounds without my permission."
"Yes… that which you mentioned last time."
"Then… Then why did you ignore me?"
"Ignore you, I did not. Listened, I have, and acted I did."
"That's not what I mean." Her voice took on a low growl.
The small creature tilted its head. "Mean then, what do you?"
"Could you stop talking like that?" The girl rubbed her temples. Trying to decipher its sentences was akin to solving arithmancy backwards (to her). "I can hardly understand what it is you mean, let alone the structure of your sentences."
He ignored the request, shaking his head. "Not a master, you are. That is why."
"But I am your master!" She childishly stomped her foot to the ground.
Yoda chuckled. "Oh, live long, have you? Much wisdom you can share? A teacher of science, you are? Or of magic?"
"I. Summoned. You… That means. You are. My. Familiar. That means I am your sovereign. You must do what I say." Her voice grew more terse on each word, trying to project her mother's tone. "Why are you so ungrateful!? Do you not understand what it means to serve a noble?"
"Offer nothing, you do, for any service to you. Fail to see, I do, what it means to serve a noble."
"The offer is being at my side! Our Founder blesses any bond between the summoned and summoner. You are bound to fulfill my wishes just as I am to safeguard you, feed you, house you, and…" She had been about to say 'teach' but caught herself. "There is a great honor, great prestige, in serving a family born from Brimir's bloodline. Do you not see why you're being ungrateful?"
Yoda shook his head slowly with closed eyes. "Need safeguarding, I do not. Feeding myself, I am capable of. No shelter, except that of a sovereign mind, I wish. And no prestige, I ever care for." He thumped the bottom of his Gimer stick to the ground in emphasis. "These things, you cannot offer me, and no justice is there for any service you would have me do."
Louise bore a look similar to one who had been rejected to a dance at the Royal Ball, though she quickly composed herself. "There is still more to a familiar's service than what I've said. It is not your choice to reject a familiar's pact. I bound you. Whether or not you accept my care is out of the question. You cannot refuse."
"Refuse, if I do, then what? Enslave me?" The grandmaster gave a hearty laugh at his own joke.
The girl stiffened at its challenge, her face contorting with anger. She could try to pull a fast one, a quick incantation and enough willpower could knock it unconscious, or a quick whack to the head could make it submit. Just one of those and this 'could' be over. She would have her familiar, albeit injured though subdued. What right did it have to talk back to its master, to refuse her offers and orders? It was very well within a mage's right to exact punishment for such disobedience.
But, Louise sensed that the tridactyl would be ready for it, that he would retaliate with its own magic. The memory of how it disarmed her of her wand came to full focus, acting as a warning. Such a prospect was something she feared.
"Well?" Yoda prodded.
She still said nothing, lost in indecision.
The tridactyl started hobbling past her, grunting as he did so. "Hungry I am. Make food, I must."
A sense of courage suddenly took the pinkette. She stepped in front of it. "I order you to return with me, now."
It tilted its head to the side, giving her another curious look.
"We still have a lot to talk about, namely your disobedience, how you've broken my chair, and your uncouth manners. We also need to discuss the nature of your magic," she tried reasoning with it. "After that… I will… have you fed."
It continued moving, sidestepping her and waving its hand dismissively. "Later, we shall talk. Hungry for something else, I still am."
Louise's grip on the crop tightened. Her hand had also inched toward her wand, her body visibly shaking in anticipation. The Rule of Steel demanded an action she felt extremely uncomfortable to take.
Just as Yoda reached her side, the girl lashed out, her right arm coming down with the crop on top of his head. There was no contact as the stick whistled through empty air where there should have been her familiar. Seeing his form blur away, she quickly pivoted so that she now faced the opposite direction.
Yoda's posture was now more stanced, arms held in front in a defensive manner, his Gimer stick held firmly in his right palm and pointed like a sabre.
The girl, momentarily shocked by its speed, lunged again, bringing her whip down with some restraint. With a quick parry and sidestep, he deflected the downward strike, placing himself a fair distance away to her left.
"Stand still!" Again she lashed out, emboldened by its non-retaliatory maneuvers.
Three of her strikes, made wildly as not with the grace of a novice Manticore Knight, were again parried. He gave more space as he somehow dashed 5 paces backward with supernatural ability. The last swing had the Valliére stumble.
Regaining her composure, she came in for a more harmful strike. "I said, stand still!"
In the span of a moment, several things happened. Louise's crop had again found empty air, though even as she anticipated the miss she felt something sweep her overstepped leg. The grandmaster had dashed forward, placing himself on the inside of her stance, bringing his Gimer stick into smooth motion that found the girl's heel. Carrying through the swing, the leg went comically outward. With her balance gone, Louise plummeted to the ground, face first.
The girl's arms came to instinctively shield her head, eyes shutting tight for the inevitable impact. She held her position…
And waited…
It was then the Valliére noticed something odd: only her feet were touching the ground. Slowly opening her eyes, the girl saw that she was floating mere inches from stone flooring. "W-what!?"
With concentration, his eyes closed and his face contorted, Yoda lifted the girl into a standing position, his left hand loosely outstretched. He delicately placed her back on her feet. The grandmaster released his telekinetic grip quickly after.
The fear Louise. Her posture shrunk, arms and legs shaking as she eyed her familiar. As she feared, it had used 'magic' on her again, but not in a way she anticipated. Her crop had been dropped, forgotten as arms came up defensively. The pinkette found herself stepping back to a stone bench, collapsing on it. "Get back! Don't harm me!"
Yoda gazed at her with a look suggesting a jovial attitude. She found herself shrinking back, afraid of further retaliation. "To attack one, if you plan, learn your opponent you should." The master thumped the end of its stick to the ground in emphasis.
"F-familiar?" she squeaked, still staring hesitantly at her summon, his words heard but not understood, collecting into a pool of thoughts like a puddle in a dry desert.
Yoda continued its walk. "A good night to you!"
For some time, she sat in place, letting the creature travel to the end of the hall. Similar to last time, when he reached the closed door, he unlatched it with its 'magic,' proceeding past and into a dark corridor.
As soon as the Not-Elf left her sight, the Valliere quickly sprung up and started sprinting to her room. She found herself extremely 'tired,' and in desperate want of isolation. She needed time to think… and reassess.
Author's note:
To all bot artists: go pound some sand (not that you will listen). Any and all offers will be rejected if you use AI to write up and send your offers. Your disingenuous reviews and messages are becoming annoying. You are free to create art of any of my works, but I'm not paying.
Review responses:
PittBullBytes - Yes, I do! Check out my profile on SpaceBattles
Monster King - You'll have to wait!
Ranger1863 - I wish my Spanish is better but thank you!
HOmega & Azure Sky Dance - it will take a (few) more confrontations. People are fairly stubborn to change.